by Frank Perry
the call.
“Go ahead, Major, your call is in process.”
He waited until she answered, then keyed the microphone, “Cybil, this is Peter Shields in an Air Force plane heading for El Paso, over.” He un-keyed the mike.
“Oh, Hello, Peter. I wasn’t expecting a radio call.”
He waited a few seconds, “Ah, Cybil, this radio only allows me to have one-way communications, so we need to say ‘over’ when listening. Over.”
“Oh, okay, I’ve got it. What’s going on, Peter? I’m so worried here. Ah, over.”
“I’m heading for El Paso, Cybil. Look, I need Sandy Vitale’s private cellphone number. Can you get it for me? Over.”
“I think so, Peter, but how will I get it to you? Over.”
“Just call my cellphone and leave it in my voicemail or send me an SMS message. I’ll call him when we land. And, Cybil, don’t tell anyone that I’m going to call him, over.”
“Sure, Peter. It might take me a little while. Over.”
“No problem. I’ll be in the air for a few hours anyway. Over.”
“Okay, Peter. I’ll do it. Over.”
“Out.”
Three hours later, when the plane taxied to a stop at the ANG Security Forces Squadron terminal at Biggs Army Airfield, Fort Bliss, El Paso, the same Specialist that met him before was waiting. He tried to take Peter’s bag again, but was refused. “Colonel Colson wanted to meet you here, Sir.”
Peter nodded while listening to his cellphone messages. They walked inside where Colson was using an unoccupied office. “Welcome back, Major. I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances.”
Peter was in civilian clothes so didn’t salute. “Thanks, Colonel. I guess I’m destined to be in El Paso more than my own office.”
“Take a desk in any open cubicle, and make yourself at home. Anything you need, come to me, or call my cellphone. Here’s my card.”
“Actually, Colonel, I need to make a very private call. It involves Rachael Aston’s kidnapping.”
“Okay, sure. Take the Squadron room down the hall. It’s not in use today.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Oh, and, Peter, Major, please step into my office.” She had a subdued look on her face.
When he entered, she closed the door. “Look, the news just reported that Cardenas is going to broadcast something at seven o’clock tonight. He says it’s in revenge for his father’s death.”
Peter looked at her helplessly, “Any chance he doesn’t mean Rachael?”
“He doesn’t have anyone else important alive that we know of.”
“Excuse me. I need to make some calls.”
He rushed from her office to the Squadron room and closed the door.
His first call began ringing, “Stokes.”
“John, it’s Peter. Where are you at right now?”
“Just landed at El Paso.”
“Good. Get your gear and come to Bliss, the Security Squadron.”
“Roger that, Major. I’ll be there as quick as I get my gear.”
“Shields out.”
He then called the number he had programmed into his phone from Cybil.
The message was a male voice without identification, “leave a message.”
Peter stood upright as though he was addressing the Director in person, “Sandy Vitale, this is Major Peter Shields. You need to call me immediately, reference Sandcastle.”
He then went to a computer terminal and did some on-line shopping using his credit card. He then asked Colson to have her driver go to a sporting goods outlet to pick up his order. He listed several more tactical items from the armory on a piece of paper, asking Colson to provide.
Back in the squad room, he called another special number at MacDill, AFB, in Tampa, Florida, and asked to speak to U.S. Army Special Operations Commander, Lt. General Robert Gardner, who answered moments later, “Major Shields! How are you, Peter?”
“I’m fine, Sir, but I have an urgent request to ask.”
“Go ahead, Major. If we’ve got it, you’ll get it.”
“Sir, are you aware that a U.S. Government Intelligence Director was kidnapped in Mexico today?”
“We heard about it, Peter. We also heard a familiar name, Rachael Aston.”
“Yes, Sir, they’ve got her. What you probably don’t know is that they’re planning to kill her publically, on YouTube tonight.”
The General knew Peter from his former days as a Special Forces operator at MacDill, and knew Rachael by reputation after the Chicago counter-terror operation. He also knew what she meant to Peter. “Peter, what do you need?”
They discussed his thoughts about an operation in Mexico, and then his phone beeped from another incoming call. The General understood Peter’s request and signed off. “This is Shields.”
The man on the other end spoke cautiously, “Uh, yes. This is Sandy Vitale. I believe you called me.”
“Yes, Director. I need to talk to you about Rachael Aston.”
“Are you insane, Major? This is an open line, and I’ll not discuss anything remotely related to The Company.”
“Look, Sir, I don’t want to threaten you, but I’ll blow the whistle on you, if I need to.”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!”
“How about land in La Paz? How about your meeting with Hector Cardenas as a congressman?”
There was a long pause. “How dare you! Look, I don’t know who you are, or what you think you know, but this call is over.”
“Then so is your career!”
Peter held his breath not knowing if Vitale would continue or hang up.
After several seconds and heavy breathing in the microphone, Vitale said, “What is this about?”
“It’s about Rachael Aston. She was kidnapped today.”
“Yes, yes. I know that. What has that got to do with me?”
“It has everything to do with you. She works for you. You sent her to Mexico. For all I know, you tipped off the cartel.”
“How dare you talk to me like that!”
“I’ll tell you how, you pompous son-of-a-bitch! You took a bribe of land in Mexico from Jamie Montes when you were a Congressman. You also met secretly with Cardenas when he was an illegal student in college.”
“You can’t prove any of this!”
Peter didn’t have anything but Rachael’s letter, “Wanna bet? Or put it differently, wanna take the risk?”
“This is all fabricated bullshit, Major, and you’re going to get court-martialed.”
“Won’t be the first time, asshole. Be my guest if anything happens to her.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that!”
“Oh, yes there is. So, are you through playing games? We don’t have time for more bantering, and you’re either helping or hurting her. It’s better for you, if you cooperate.”
“Are you threatening me? If you are, let me assure you ... ”
“Look, Sir, you don’t want me as an enemy, trust me. So, shut up and listen.”
There was a pause. “Okay, I’m listening.”
Raiders
Stokes arrived as the call with Vitale was ending. They embraced, and Peter invited John into the Squadron Room that had become an operations center. They talked a little about John’s tearful goodbye with Carolyn and about Peter’s plans so far.
“John, we’ve got a lot of pieces to put together and not much time.”
“Do you know where she’s at?”
“No, that’s the biggest problem. But, I think I can find her, if we have the time. Remember your old buddy Commandante Padilla?”
“Oh yeah. Do we get to see him again? I’ve got some courtesies to return.”
“He’s our link. He’s got to be involved. If we can get him at home or his office, then we have a chance.”
“Cardenas could have Rachael anywhere. We can’t cover enough ground with the time he�
�s giving.”
“I’m working on that.”
The plan went together quickly, but it would be dark, after sunset that night before everything was ready. Peter and Stokes were constantly on the phone and internet.
In the late afternoon, Peter called Vitale again, but the call went to voicemail. “Damn him!” He slammed the table with his fist, then his phone rang.
The display said it was Vitale. “Damn, you, I said to keep the phone close, and don’t miss my calls.”
Stokes was listening to only one side as Peter continued, “I don’t care about your excuses. There is nothing more important. Do you hear me?”
John couldn’t believe Peter was talking to the top Intelligence Official in the country.
“Did you get the information I requested? Good.” Peter began writing.
Stokes smiled, then Peter spoke to Vitale, “Now, listen very carefully, because you now have Rachael’s life in your hands, and it’s a life I value above all things. Think of it as ‘her fate is your fate’.”
Peter listened for a moment, “Shut up and listen. You need to call Cardenas, and get this stopped or stalled long enough for us to get to her.”
After listening again. “I don’t care if you haven’t spoken to him in years.” A pause, “Then call Padilla. I don’t care how you do it! You’re the CIA for Christ sake. Make the call, and stop the excuses! As I said before, I’m holding you responsible.”
Stokes cringed before Peter continued, “Consider it a promise.”
Peter shut off the call. “What an arrogant ass! No wonder he’s in politics.”
Rock and Roll
Sunlight dimmed rapidly over the mountains. By five, Peter and John were dressed in Desert Camouflage Uniforms (DCUs) with backpacks, water camels, body armor, Sincgars radio, GPS, medical supplies and weapons. Colson had done an outstanding job cutting through red tape. They had the